


another way to fight

by litra



Category: For the People (TV 2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Dark, Gen, Rebellion, Resistance, dark future
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-09-05 13:45:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16811806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/litra/pseuds/litra
Summary: In an unspecified dark future where the government has taken over, Sandra is still fighting for the people.





	another way to fight

  
Sandra pressed herself against the wall, not even daring to breath as the patrol passed by on the street. Her hiding spot wasn't a great one, it was just a nook in the side of the building where there might have been a heating unit in better days. Tonight it was enough. The patrol passed. Sandra took a moment to quiet her thrumming heart, before glancing over the street again. 

The night was foggy enough that as long as she kept close to the buildings no one would pay attention to a bit of movement in the shadows. If she could just make it three more blocks she'd be back in the Blue zone where she had the proper ID. There she might be questioned for being out so late, she might be fined, but she wouldn't be shot befor she could say a word. 

The street was clear. Sandra stepped around the building, keeping close to the wall. She was walking fast, but not running, and she was careful how she placed her feet, stepping as softly as she could. A patrol hearing a runner now would not be good. 

One block.

Two blocks.

She paused before turning the corner. Sandra already knew what was waiting for her, the double chain link fence. The kill box between the buildings, the solid concrete filling in the spaces the old buildings didn't. During the day, and with the right paperwork she might have been able to talk her way through, not after curfew. Luckily New York was one of the oldest cities on the coast. The infrastructure had already been in place when the color zones had been implemented. Bureaucracy and budget cuts had created more than a few holes that could be exploited.

Instead of heading straight for the fence, Sandra followed along it, looking for a marker. Sometimes it was a flag in a window or a bit of graffiti, sometimes it was an old advertisement. This time she spotted the familiar star drawn like a child's initials in the concrete. It pointed her to a boarded up hole in the ground. 

The subway had been closed up before the zones but only by a few weeks. Some of the tunnels had been blocked off but there were just too many to cover everything. Bureaucracy and budget cuts.

Sandra pulled up a board. feeling in the dark with a hand produced nothing. She had a light, but she didn't dare use it out in the open like she was. She took a bracing breath, and lowered herself down feet first. Her small stature was both a blessing and a curse. It was easy to wiggle past the boards, but she had no idea how far down the ground was. She didn't know if she'd be falling onto concrete or water or a garbage pile. Once she let go there would be no getting out.

Then again, being found in a red zone without the proper ID would be just as bad.

Sandra braced herself and let go. 

It was only a few feet, barely enough time to be afraid. Then she felt the crackle of old leaves, a bit of damp, mold and old cloth. She checked herself over as her eyes adjusted. She was okay, a few scrapes, but no bleeding. The tunnel stretched off to her left, empty and echoing. Sandra picked herself up, got out her pen light and carefully placed her feet as she looked for the next sign. 

Down in the subway tunnels whoever had made the signs had been less careful about making them. They were spray painted on the walls in large deliberate displays that gave the finger to the current government. Silently, Sandra agreed, even if her own protest of the totalitarian system were quieter. She checked the packet of forged documents in her bag. Still there, still crisp and clean in their plastic wrappers, even if they'd gotten a little bent from her fall. The family wouldn't care, not if they got to stay together. 

Sandra didn't know what made her freeze in place, a brush of air a sound her conscious mind hadn't registered, but she'd been doing this for long enough that she knew when to listen to her gut. flipping off her light, she pressed herself against the wall and waited. 

Nothing. 

Nothing.

Something.

A crunching of gravel under a boot heel, someone breathing slow but labored in the dark. 

It could be nothing. The authorities would have sent a team not a single person and this could be more than two. It could be a squatter. They were less common when everyone who didn't make themselves useful was disposed of, but there were still people who made a living in dark deals and dark places. that was human nature. If she was super lucky it could be another Defender, out on a task like her own.

Sandra fingered the star pin she wore on her collar. The only external marker she carried.

The footsteps stopped.

Sandra cursed silently. She'd gotten distracted. Had she made a sound? Had the other heard her, or sensed her somehow?

She counted out 14 silent seconds before a rock clattered down the passage. Sandra pressed herself tighter into the wall, her bag behind her, she clenched her teeth on a cry. 

The light that came on was a dull red that didn't ruin her eyes. The figure holding it, had it pointed at the ground. In her other hand was a gun. The silencer screwed onto the barrel was nearly as big as the gun itself, but a weapon was a weapon, and it was more then Sandra had. Her eyes followed the arm up to a figure in a smart but understated suit. Her blond hair cut sensibly at her chin.

Sandra knew this woman. She worked in the courthouse. Kate, that was her name, Kate Littlejohn. She wasn't part of the Defenders, at least not a part of her cell, but she wasn't one of the guards either. Sandra's eyes caught on a silver pin the other woman wore. At first glance it was a cross. On a second glance, Sandra recognised it as a sword.

She swallowed and took a chance.

"I stand in the defence of the people." Sandra kept her hands at her sides, waiting, unthreatening.

"Your name is Sandra Bell." Kate said it like a question she already knew the answer to. Sandra nodded. Kate slowly lowered her gun, not putting it away but letting it point at the ground.

"I stand in the pursuit of justice."

Sandra let out a breath. She'd heard the Defenders weren't the only ones working quietly against the system. The Swords of Justice were actually in the news every so often. The propaganda always painted them as terrorists, but if you looked at the details it was always the bad ones they went after. Officials who used their power to hurt people, threatening people who had nothing, and had done nothing. The Defenders did their best to protect those people while the Swords went after the cause. Two ways of addressing the same problem. Two viewpoints on how the world worked.

Sandra stepped away from the wall, not approaching Kate, but not cowering. She nodded back the way she'd come. "There's an entrance to the Red zone on old 46th."

Kate shrugged, "I'm not headed to red."

No Sandra thought. She was probably headed to White, or even Gold. That's where those with the money lived, but-- "The less I know the better."

Kate nodded, "Good luck. Stay free."

"Stay free." Sandra echoed. She turned on her own light and turned her back on Kate. 

A part of her wondered if she'd read about a death in the paper the next morning. Would she be able to look at Kate across the courtroom and know that she'd killed someone. 

No-- She'd be able to look across the courtroom and know that Kate hated the system as much as she did. And Kate would know the same thing about her. 

She quickened her steps. Determination singing in her veins. It might be little steps now, but they were making a difference. One day they would all be free.


End file.
